Halves
by prosto666
Summary: Kail just wants to keep a steady job and get through college. Itachi thought he would finally be at peace when he ended Kabuto's jutsu, not find himself in another world, very much alive. Can a childish, stubborn girl who just wants something more, and a man who has always run from his past find a second chance at life in each other? A door opens both ways.


**Halves**

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 **Prologue** :

 **Real**

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My knuckles were quickly turning white.

I could feel the blood draining from my face, but I didn't loosen my grip on the steering wheel. I probably could've taken my foot off the break too, but I was frozen in my seat, arms and legs locked in place; panting and covered in a cold sweat. The thundering of my heart was a sizzling roar in my ears, the squealing of tires and the solid thud of contact still ringing in my head like church bells. It happened way too quick for me to swerve-a pretty shit poor excuse on any other day-a startled scream still stuck in my throat as a large something, a _person,_ suddenly appeared in front of my car.

Eyes wide, ready to pop out of my skull, I peered through the windshield and the glare of my headlights at the prone figure sprawled in the middle of the road. My stomach did a violent somersault.

' _Oh God'_

I could move again, fumbled with my seat belt and practically ripped the car door off its hinges in my haste to get out. I glanced at the dent in my hood and could only think the worst. I stumbled over to the body, preparing myself to see blood all over the pavement, to see a broken, _dead_ , person. My heart was just about ready to burst out of my chest, or come up with the rest of the contents of my stomach. My legs wobbled, and I fought to keep my composure; a long string of prayers and curses flowed through my mind, that went something along the lines of;

' _Shit, shit! Please don't be dead. Please don't be dead. Please, Please-''_

The person lay on their side, but thankfully all in one piece. I bent closer, looking for any signs of life. With trembling hands I gently pushed them on their back. My breath caught in my throat. It was a man, early twenties, and down right _gorgeous_. He had long black hair, held back from his face and pale, flawless skin. He wore simple dark pants and matching shirt, but barefooted. I blinked, forcing my eyes away from his face, to his chest, which was rising and falling weakly. I didn't see any red stains, nothing sticking out that shouldn't be. I let out a long breath I didn't know I was holding, and slumped to my knees. My senses came back to me then, cursing myself up and down for not calling 911 yet.

' _Focus! Stop your damn drooling and get this guy an ambulance!'_

I wrestled my phone out of my pocket, hands still shaking, fingers slipping over the buttons. But I paused, the man had shifted, a slight twitch, a jerk of muscles, of his hand and face. I gulped, suddenly transfixed, and leaned forward, reaching out with my other hand, my fingers brushed his shoulder, when one pale hand shot out and caught my wrist. I jumped, phone falling out of my hand and clattering to the pavement. The man blearily blinked his eyes-thick eyelashes fluttered against high cheek bones-until they were fully open, staring blankly up at the sky. They were black, the kind of deep, bottomless black that suck you in with one glance. And they suddenly were fixed on me, and any words I could think to say were stuck in my throat. Very rarely did I call anything beautiful-a painting or a sunset, something that was without a doubt a work of art and true beauty-but now that he was looking at me, he wasn't just gorgeous, this person before me definitely trumped any Davinci or exotic mountain range. He was, to put it plainly, _breathtakingly_ beautiful. Literally. A fallen face was calm, a little twitch of the lips-thin, but _perfect_ -then he attempted to sit up, and I was snapped out of my awestruck trance back into reality like a slap in the face.

' _Get a grip, Kail!'._

"No, don't move." He didn't listen, struggling to support himself on his elbows. I put a hand on his shoulder, he still held my other one prisoner, and gently tried to push him back down.

"Seriously. I just hit you with my car, you shouldn't move until the paramedics get here." Still no response, but he did lay down again, closing his eyes and made a sort of grunt, a deep rumbling sigh from his chest that sounded painful. He mumbled something I barely caught.

"...Sasuke."

"What? Never mind, just save your strength until you get to the hospital." I reached for my phone again, hoping absent mindedly that it wasn't broken, but his grip on my wrist tightened.

"No." I blinked dumbly. What did he mean, _no?_ I just _hit_ him with my _car._ Frustration replaced the fear, I ripped my wrist from his hold and bit the inside of my cheek.

"Well you don't exactly have a choice. You might be seriously injured, and I'm not a Doctor, so just relax, you can trust me." I pressed, a little angrily. He opened his eyes again and regarded me with an impassive expression, black eyes pierced right through me and I swallowed thickly, and returned his stare, determined to be the one in control of the situation. He brought up his hand again, I tried not to flinch and placed it lightly over my own, covered my phone with his long fingers. The skin on skin contact sent a little jolt up my arm. He wheezed, and licked his lips.

"Please, don't…" Then his hand slipped, landing on the road with a dull thud, his eyes slid closed and he was unconscious again.

Aaaand pause.

So any sane person would have immediately disregarded everything he had just said- there was no way he was in his right mind,right?-and called 911 anyways, because that's what one does when they hit someone else with their car. So I guess that makes me crazy. It was those damn _eyes_. I sat there for a few moments debating what to do, appalled at myself for even debating it in the first place, and then debated where or no to debate. Maybe it was some divine intervention, a sudden cosmic blow to the back of the head, but long story short, I ended up with a headache, several personal reminders to see a therapist and a heavy, extremely attractive man in my arms. It took some serious muscle-that I didn't posses-grunts of very colorful language, and a good ten minutes and I was back in my car, with him deposited limp in the backseat. I even buckled his seat belt.

' _This is crazy, you're crazy, crazy, so goddamn-'_

I'm either going to jail, or Hell. Well depending on the state, the latter could be better.

I clenched the steering wheel-a flash of unpleasant deja vu-and tried to figure out a plan. Id take him home, make him comfortable, offer him a meal and a shower then give him a phone call and send him on his way. That is, if he doesn't have a concussion or broken ribs and actually wakes up in the immediate future. And if he isn't a psychopath and kills me in my sleep.

I glanced in the rear view mirror at my incapacitated guest and couldn't help the pang of...of something I couldn't, wouldn't, put a label to. Fear, excitement, nausea, a mix of a lot different unpleasant sensations. The earlier adrenaline was beginning to fade, like hot steam, leaving my bones hollow and brittle. This was _not_ how I wanted this night to end. I glared at the road and swallowed a golf ball sized lump nestled in between my tonsils and flipped on my turn signal, turning towards town, towards my tiny one roomed apartment.

I'm totally going to regret this.

"I hope his highness likes sleeping on couches."

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Please Review! I hope Ya'll enjoyed it!


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